The Avox And Her Escape
by Kate-chan15
Summary: My name is Cassie Knox, but there is no way you could know that, as I can't speak. I was punished for my indiscretion involving the nephew of President Snow. My punishment was becoming an Avox girl, and I served visitors to the Capitol in bitter, uncharacteristic silence. When Gale Hawthorne visited on business, I attended to him, and he vowed to rescue me; he would help me escape.


I served in silence, as always. Gregory was silent too. He wouldn't look at me, and I knew that was because he felt guilty, or at least I hoped he was guilty. He deserved to be guilty, after what happened to me, all because he thought I was cute.

I was hostile as I poured more orange juice for him. He looked at me finally, and he even had the audacity to place his hand on mine. We were alone; he thought that meant that we could simply pick up where we left off- no, sir. I snatched my hand away, glaring coolly.

At that moment, Angela Wilson walked into the room, smoothing her long indigo hair. I busied myself with pouring a glass for her too, but she spoke in her nasal tone after I had finished pouring it, "I don't want that." Her voice was painfully shrill, "I want Coffee." I grimaced, and was about to retreat, when she snapped, "Go fetch me some coffee, little Avox girl." Her tone was mocking as she approached Gregory.

He turned to face her, and kissed her quickly, "Good morning, sweetheart." Gregory said; to which she replied by sitting next to him at the marble table and smiling angelically at the diamond ring on her finger.

"I still can't believe were engaged," She bragged, "The ring is so beautiful!" She squealed, cleaning her already pristine ring on her flamingo pink dress. "I want to go wedding dress shopping today." She told Gregory, and wordlessly he pulled out his dark leather wallet, handing her a gleaming credit card.

"Have fun, baby." He smiled, placing one hand on her thigh as he drunk some orange juice, "Do you have any ideas yet for the wedding?" He asked.

If I could speak, I would scoff. Off course she didn't. Gregory mad a very public proposal just last night, and she squealed so loudly, everyone had to go and congratulate the happy couple. And she and Gregory weren't too quiet while they were celebrating last night either. How could she have planned in the one night between now and the proposal?

Instead, she giggled and nodded, "I'm thinking pink flowers; pink dresses, pink tuxes', pink decorations- even pink food!" She was giddy with excitement, and while I thought it sounded awful, Angela was a stylist, and she obviously thought it was "_super in right now_!"

Angela looked at me and clicked her fingers, "Coffee. Now." she commanded, and I obeyed; as always.

It was later that morning, when I was called to see a peacekeeper with new orders for me. Apparently, a coal miner from District twelve was visiting the capitol, and I was to see to them; clean up after them; fetch them food, drink; and do anything they wanted. That part seemed sickening, as the nameless peacekeeper ran his eyes over my appearance. I wanted to ask questions. What was his name? What was his business here? What was he like? Had he visited before? How old was he? The questions went on. That was one of the things I missed, being able to inquire, learn, engage in an easy, flowing conversation. Or even to tell whatever-his-name-was to stop looking at me like that. Sarcastic comments piled up in my head, but I couldn't say any of them, so I nodded and left, heading in the direction of the assigned room.

I had never been to that section of the building before. It was far less lavish in comparison to Gregory's room. It was still sleek and sexy though, with black leather sofas and a wide open floor plan, and minimalistic furnishings. I checked around, but it was spotless. The unknown peacekeeper-man had told me that he had been here for two days, without an avox, so I had expected the place to be a pig-sty. I reminded myself that this mystery guy was from a remarkably poor district; it was unlikely that he had had a handmaid to clean up his mess for him. I already preferred him to Gregory, who had undoubtedly never washed a plate or picked up a pair of his dirty boxers in his life. Mystery guy was independent; I liked it because it meant less work for me.

I was plumping cushions on the sofa when the door opened quietly, and closed behind a tall, broad shouldered god. Or at least, that's what he looked like. He possessed gorgeous dark brown eyes and messy dark hair. Light stubble featured on his jaw and dark circles under his melancholy eyes. His expression was one of exhaustion and sadness; but it quickly changed to one of bewilderment when he caught sight of me, "Hi?" he said shortly, puzzled.

I stared, unsure of what to do. Was he talking to me? Should I wave? Should I curtsey? I didn't know, so I stood stock still. I swallowed, but it was uncomfortable and I almost gagged.

He frowned and swore, "I told them I didn't want an Avox." He grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

I shrugged awkwardly; what was he expecting me to do? Go and tell them he didn't require my services. I could think of a few good reasons that wouldn't work- one being my inability to speak. I looked at him, waiting for an instruction; finally he spoke, but it wasn't what I had expected, "My name is Gale Hawthorne. I want to know yours." He told me.

I widened my eyes just a little, wanting desperately to scoff. I pointed to my mouth and formed an uncomfortable expression.

He nodded stoically and walked into his bedroom. I frowned; I had thought that he might actually make conversation for a while, even if it was a little one-sided. He returned, though, and held out a yellow notepad, "Here," he offered it to me, and it took it sceptically. "Write your name on it."

I did, and then I held it out for him to see, my messy scrawl large and ineloquent as it read two words; Cassie Knox. He grinned, and light, barely here, dimples were visible on his cheeks. I wrote again, _**I don't think this is allowed. There is a reason my tongue was cut off, you know?**_

He grimaced, "Like I care." He retorted. I smiled; I much preferred this guy to Gregory.


End file.
